


Smile While It's Summer Cuz You Might Not Get Another

by Hiver_Frost_Elf



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Childhood, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lewis Snart Is His Own Warning in This Fandom, Lewis Snart's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 04:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9532307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiver_Frost_Elf/pseuds/Hiver_Frost_Elf
Summary: Len doesn't act like a Len, so he goes by "Cold" instead.





	1. Why Cold?

Why Cold?

It’s not because Lewis beat him until glacial armor froze over his heart.

It’s not because he wields the cold gun; that’s what fools think.

He hated winter growing up.  Lewis never bought them weather-appropriate gear.  Len’s summer savings would end up bundling Lisa.

Len punched the neighborhood spoiled brat—three years Len’s junior yet allegedly possessing all the world’s wisdom—who had the gall to say, “Winter’s better than summer cuz you can’t do anything if you’re too hot, but you can always throw on a coat if you’re cold.”

Most brats licked their wounds and gave Len a wide berth after that.  Some cried for their mothers: yet another privilege Len didn’t have.  This brat got up—nose dripping blood—and punched him back.

In the crotch.

Granted, that was pretty much the only spot the brat could reach, but damn!

He left Len reeling on gray-green grass, then came back and tossed a blanket at him.  Len scowled up at him, “Do I look poor to you!?”

“Do I look dumb to you!?” he retorted with his arms folded. “Take the blanket, Cold!”

Len shoved it at him, “My name’s Len, brat!”

“Then start acting like a Len!” he shoved it back. “All you’re acting like right now is a cold!  You’re tired, you’re cranky, and you barely eat anything.  Use your awesome thievery to steal my food and hold my parents’ bed hostage.”

Len blanched.  How’d this brat know about Bring Your Son to Work Day???

“I’m Winter cuz I hate heat and go wherever I want—especially where nobody wants me.”

“....Won’t your parents freak if you invite someone home while they’re out… Winter?”

Ire flooded his gaze, “My dad’s Tomorrow cuz folks claim he’s coming, yet he’s always far away; and my mom’s Legend cuz she’s too famous to care about minor characters.”

Rest assured, Winter qualified as a character.  He constantly started and lost fights to Len’s guardian cellmate because Mick outmuscled him by six years and upwards of thirty pounds.  Lisa wished she wasn’t the only girl in their crew once they were all together after Lowell won custody of his grandchildren.

Lowell raised a silvery-snowy eyebrow amidst flipping pancakes when Winter looked down at this brunette and rolled his pine needle eyes, “If it bothers you that much, then call me a girl.  I’m Winter cuz I don’t care about pronouns.”

Lisa did.  Anybody who came sniffing around for them found their mark roughly half the time because of it, not that it helped them acquire their vengeance.

This pack broke and mended over the years.  Even Len got fed up with him some days.  They chatted about a potential target once they cooled down enough from their latest quarrel.

“They’ll haul it over to Central City Museum after it ups its security.  It’s the perfect vengeance against your old man.” Len could hear Winter grinning over the phone. “That loser couldn’t even get away with an emerald.  He’ll roll in his grave after we snatch a diamond.”

“He’s not in a grave, Winter.”

“Yet!”

“Mick’s already on the no-fly list,” technically, Rory McMichael’s on the no-fly list, but aliases notwithstanding, Winter was persona non grata in South America.  Whenever anybody brought it up, Winter always reminded folks that he’d only be persona non grata in Chile and Bolivia if those two hadn’t warned all the other countries about him first.

“And afterwards, we’ll celebrate at Château d’Hiver.”

Len massaged his temple to guard against an oncoming headache, “Winter, that’s Santini territory.”

“A mansion’ll be a piece of cake after nabbing a diamond!  I already forged a deed.  All we gotta do is bury anybody who’ll know it’s fake.”

Len shut this quest down.  Winter called him unimaginative.  Len called him a daydreamer, “Hunters by night, royalty by day?  That’s not real life, that’s a fairy tale—comic books are less fantastic!  At least comic books follow rules, and by comic book rules, CCPD would catch us once in a while.”

Winter chucked his phone at a wall.  Len subtracted thirty dollars from the quartet’s communal I Ticked One or More of Y’all Off account.

Debris crushed his peace offering.  Len looked up Winter’s legal name and all of his aliases and exhaled relief when the list of the dead didn’t ping.  His tension cubed at Lowell’s best efforts to comfort him, “See, Vnuk, he’s only missing.”

Len knew what “missing” really meant ever since Lewis told Lisa her hamster went “missing” during school: “dead without a body”.  Lisa received nothing from Winter.  The last anybody saw of him was during the previous night.  He’d uneventfully departed from Central Medical after reading Mick _If You Give a Pyro a Match_ and other fiery parodies to pass the torture of too much time and nothing to burn during it.

Lisa, Len, and Mick searched all possible routes starting from most to least often used.  They prowled what paltry few of Winter’s haunts hadn’t become glorified landfills.  Len checked the lists again.

Dead without a body.

Len adopted the alias “Cold” because an ache squeezed his soul like a cold choked a chest.


	2. Rogue in the Lightning

Nine months and a week later, Cold’s blasted open the doors of an armored car.  It was only a matter of time before a metahuman turned on what remained of his family.  Already, two would’ve unleased twin tornados on Central if the Hercules of speed hadn’t unwound them.  Others spoke of the latter like children whispered stories around a campfire.

Nobody knew where this phantom came from: STAR Labs, Cold’s pathetically simple research uncovered.  Apparently, a John Doe whose heart beat too fast to register piqued their interest.

Everybody acted like he would snatch them out of their beds in the middle of the night and they’d wake up in prison the next morning.  Only if they were rapists, child abusers, or uppity metahumans.  The last group went to STAR Labs, apparently.  “Vigilantism is illegal” loses lots of its support when said vigilante goes after foes no one can combat or would argue deserve freedom.

Security cameras glazed over.  Whoever stood in Cold’s way became ice sculptures.  He sauntered across a now frosty truck at last.  500 grams of starlit carbon nested in his grasp.

His already frenzied blood electrified further on sight of his last obstacle: Ghost.  Lightning misted in Ghost’s eyes.  The thief smirked as he tightened his grip on his cryonic weapon, “Cold feet, Garnet?”

“ **Excuse me, sir, but you’re not allowed to steal that!** ”

Len remembered how dorky superheroes could be upon hearing that.  Laughter escaped his nostrils, “You’ve never cared about normal heists before, Ghost.  What’s changed?”

“ **That diamond doesn’t belong to you,** ” no duh “ **it belongs to my friend.** ” What??? “ **I suggested this heist to him, and as soon as I find him, we’re nabbing this.  His old man hurt him and his sister beyond what you can imagine, and taking this is our best shot at hurting him until my brother and I learn how to get away with murder.** ”

Enlightenment dawned on Cold like a sunburn.  His grip wavered.  The anaconda clenching his heart rattled at Ghost’s plea.

“ **If honor among thieves means anything to you, you’ll walk away and let him take it instead.  And if you see Leonard Snart, Lisa Snart, or Mick Rory, tell ‘im Winter’s bunking at STAR Labs.  I dunno if you’ve noticed, but between Mardon, Nimbus, and Black and recovering from Mardon, Nimbus, and Black, I haven’t had any time to reach out to our contacts myself.  So please, if you really want the diamond, fine; consider it payment for services rendered.** ”

Len holstered his cold gun.  Then he yanked his goggles down around his neck, his parka hood back, and his mask off.  Winter gasped through his nose.  Pine cone brown fluff emerged from his cowl.

The Kahndaq Dynasty Diamond shined like coal next to their constellation of tears.  Len pocketed it, marched over to him, and embraced him long enough to hear protests squeaking over Ghost’s comms.

“ **Call me if a meta harms our city....  I’m neither a hero nor a villain; I’m a Rogue,** ” Winter didn’t part from Len to tell whatever misfits assisted Ghost.

Winter deactivated his comms while Len flourished their prize.  They stood shoulder to shoulder and held the gem aloft.  He smirked at Winter’s reflection in it, “We’ve stolen our crown jewel; time to celebrate.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was ambling across campus and apparently grinning about schemes for Time and Time Again when an older gentleman joked, “It’s too cold to be smiling like that!”
> 
> If I was as witty in real life as I (think I) am on paper, I would’ve joked back, “We gotta smile while it’s winter cuz we might not get another summer!”
> 
> Thus the title was born! (This fic has been sitting on my laptop for weeks now. I originally titled it "Why Cold?" but wasn't 100% satisfied with it. Please let me know what you think!)
> 
> Thanks for taking time to read this <3 enjoy what you do here and everywhere :)


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